


my heart, my whole heart

by AnonymousPuzzler



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Episode 66 Spoilers, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, Forgiveness, Grief/Mourning, IPRE in general is there and discussed but tagged characters have more major mentions/appearances, M/M, Post-Canon, Relationship Study, Taako works through difficult emotions and occasionally tries not to be an awful person: the fic, The Stolen Century spoilers, Vague mentions of sex and bad past relationships (including Sazed), but nothing in any particularly explicit detail, with a side of The Fishing Date We All Deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPuzzler/pseuds/AnonymousPuzzler
Summary: Lucretia has done him a great mercy, he supposes. You can’t miss what you never knew you had in the first place.(Taako muses on love, and loss, and being generally kind of a horrible person.)





	my heart, my whole heart

**Author's Note:**

> listen. Listen. I was like 90% done with a new chapter of the Kravitz fic when episode 66 dropped, and then I spent like two days just having to process all _that_ , and then on Saturday I woke up and suddenly just went into a daze and pounded out this fic pretty much in one go. I don't know how this happened. I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Lucretia has done him a great mercy, he supposes. You can’t miss what you never knew you had in the first place.

And looking back, he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would not have made it through those seven long years if he’d remembered Lup. If he’d known she was out there somewhere, hiding or lost or… he doesn’t even want to think about the alternative. He would have run himself ragged searching for her, scoured the globe until his body gave out from under him, because what point was there to a life without Lup? But in forcing him to forget that there ever was a life _with_ Lup, Lucretia had saved him from that fate, given him a life on Faerün that he never would have sought out for himself.

But, at the same time, it was never going to be permanent. She was always going to give those memories back, to let him remember eventually.

And right now, he can think of no greater cruelty than _remembering_.

   
  
  


Being a twin was a unique experience, one most people had no chance of understanding.

People tended to think of the two of them as a set, a pair, two halves of a greater whole, two perfect and inseparable mirror-images. And, frankly, they weren’t. They were two unique people, identical only in their genetics, regardless of the similarities in their appearance and mannerisms. Not two parts of an otherwise-incomplete set, but compliments to each other - like a fine wine to a good meal, or a sweet accessory to a dope outfit, or a sword to a shield. Each perfectly functional, perfectly serviceable on their own, but truly something to be reckoned with when together.

Sure, they depended on each other. Maybe more than most twins, maybe more than was strictly _healthy_. But, after the lives they’d led, could you blame them? Passed around between family members like a couple of hot potatoes, then scraping by in caravans and circuses and adventuring parties that might backstab them at a moment’s notice, then a hundred _fucking_ years of the annual apocalypse. It was easy to become a little attached, a little dependent, on the one person who never left.

And in the end, it was why they complemented each other so well; in all the years of scraping by, they became finely attuned to each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and honed their own abilities to make up for the other’s shortcomings. Where Taako was cautious, Lup was bold. Where Taako was impatient, Lup was thoughtful. Where Taako was pragmatic, Lup was optimistic. Balancing each other out, protecting each other in any instances where one was more vulnerable. Never a singular unit, but a team truly beyond compare.

With seven years of solitude to provide a point of comparison, Taako could now say, without a doubt, that he’d been more dependent on that system than Lup was. Because in retrospect, on his own… well, he was a mess. He was a mess, and broken, and frankly, _horrible_. His caution escalated to cowardice, his impatience to impulsiveness, his pragmatism to outright cruelty, and more, so much more, until he was a person Lup would have looked upon with horror.

The realization hit him only minutes after the effects of the ichor. After he _remembered. ___

__

And it had hurt, it had _hurt_ , more than anything he possibly could have imagined. He had remembered everything, remembered the hundred years and remembered the crew and remembered _Lup_ and remembered _forgetting_ , and he had looked up at Lucretia and had felt a pain deep within him that was well and _truly_ incomprehensible. And he knew, in his heart of hearts, that she had made the horrible choice that needed to be made; that the relics were untenable in the long run; that she had done everything in her power and more to protect them, even with the terrible, impossible choice she had made without their consent. To provide them some measure of happiness after a hundred years of grief. To take mercy on her friends, her family, the people she loved so, so dearly.

But she had stolen their memories, and then she had made them _remember_ , was always going to force them to remember in the end. And, to Taako especially, that was a cruelty beyond all cruelties.

It hurt. It _hurt._

And that was another difference between him and Lup. When she was hurt, she swallowed that hurt down deep inside her, let it draw armor around her heart and pull her away from the world, subtle and quiet and cold. But when Taako was hurt it was like his entire being grew _sharp_ , barbs around his heart and poison in his words, and he would _attack_ and _attack_ and _attack_ until there was nothing left to strike. And together, it ultimately worked; he would lash out and demand reparation when Lup drew back too much to do so herself, and she would pull him back in and restrain him when his cuts went too deep, his swings too wild, hurting for the sake of hurting rather than to right a wrong.

There was no such luck now.

He looked at Lucretia, and he remembered, and he _hurt_ , and he _hurt_ , and he _hurt_.

He couldn’t even remember what he’d said. He couldn’t remember, but he knew the words had been so sharp that his throat was raw by the time they exploded from his lips. He knew that Lucretia’s knees had practically buckled under the weight of everything he said, that she’d been reduced almost instantly to sobs and apologies, that she’d whimpered out “I know, I _know_ ,” like every single barb he leveled her way was one she’d already thought to herself. (And he was sure she had, he _knew_ she had, and he kept saying those things anyway, because he knew it would hurt more and that’s what he _wanted_ , he wanted her to hurt too, he wanted her to hurt _more than him._ ) He knew that Barry and Davenport - _of all people_ , the ones she had hurt more than anyone, the ones that ought to be on _his side_ \- had gaped at him in horror, had stammered out _Taako you’ve said enough_ and _Taako you know that’s not true_ as if it would stop him. As if she _deserved_ their defense.

Angus had tugged at his robes, shouting something (he didn’t remember, it was all such a _blur_ , it didn’t matter what he or anyone else ended up saying so long as his words _hurt them_ ), and Taako _whirled_. He whirled and he pulled out of the boy’s reach and he _snapped_ and he _attacked_ and _attacked_ and _attacked it doesn’t matter who, as long as they hurt, as long as he’s not the only one--_

And Angus had recoiled like he’d been struck, wand dropping out of his shaking hand, eyes wide and full of tears, _terrified_ , and that had been enough. That had finally been enough to make him pause, to pull the barbs away from his heart, to make him _realize._

His stomach lurched. Everyone was staring, everyone was _looking_ at him, horrified and taking half-steps away from him, like he was some kind of monster to be feared. Magnus, Magnus who still didn’t even _know_ , had closed the distance between them and placed his hands on Angus’ shoulders, drawing the trembling boy away from him ( _he was_ trembling, _he was trembling, what did he_ say, _he didn’t mean it he never_ meant _it--_ ).

Lup would never let this happen. Lup would never have allowed him to go so far, to say these things, to hurt the people they both loved so dearly.

“I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out, hands fluttering to clutch at his stomach the way they do when he’s at his worst, when all he wants to do is retreat into himself and let the world disappear. (The way they had in Wonderland, in Refuge, in Goldcliff, in Phandalin, in Glamour Springs, on the deck of the ship he didn’t remember boarding where he killed a man he’d never met--) “I didn’t- Angus, you know I didn’t mean--”

The boy _flinches_ when he’s addressed, and Taako reacts much the same as he does so, blinking as he glances about the room. ( _What did he_ say, _what has he_ done--)

Lup would never have let this happen. But Lup was gone, and in her absence, he had festered into _this_.

He meets Lucretia’s eyes, and he can tell, despite everything - despite all the terrible thing she’s done, and all the terrible things he’s said in return - she understands, she doesn’t blame him, and _that_ hurts more than anything.

_“I’m sorry,”_ he sobs, and he feels himself bend and break and shatter and _it hurts, it hurts, it hurts._

   
  
  


_Back soon._

They’re empty words, Lup and Taako know all too well. They’ve had too many anticlimactic farewells in their lives to think there’s any real promise in _back soon._

_Make sure you get all your chores done before we’re home. We’ll be back soon,_ their parents had said, so long ago that neither twin could remember their faces. Three days had passed before a neighbor had so much as come to check on them, and as far as they were aware, their parents had stayed missing long after they were shipped off to their aunt’s.

_Just head off to your cousins’ place and wait there,_ their aunt had told them, only a few years after that. _Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back soon._ They had hoped against hope, but in the end, neither was truly surprised when they never saw her again.

_We’re just headed into town for a bit. We’ll be back soon,_ they’d told their grandfather, shouting from the outskirts of the farm as they started down the worn dirt path. By nightfall, they were huddled in the back wagon of a caravan, headed off to parts unknown with no intent to return.

_Back soon. Back soon. Back soon._ Said to and by all manner of family, friends, employers, acquaintances, lovers. Never a promise, but a quick, easy, ultimately false reassurance before simply… disappearing.

How appropriate, then, that those were the only words on Lup’s note when she, too, disappeared from their lives.

Back soon.

   
  
  


“Hey, Kravvy, it’s Taako. Hope you’re kicking some necromantic ass right now, because honestly, I can’t think of any other reason you wouldn’t pick up for _yours truly,_ ” he’d drawled into his stone of farspeech, rummaging under his bed until his hand closed around the hilt of the Raging Poisoning Sword of Doom. He was never going to actually _use_ the dumb thing, couldn’t manage a decent melee attack to save his life, but he sure got a kick out of seeing everyone’s faces when he wore it the same way he’d wear a cute plastic bangle.

“Listen, uh, so the Director’s sending us out on another mission right now?” He continues, sitting up and fastening the sword on his back. “Pretty sure it’s the real deal this time. Like, you know, _relic_ time, not _I need ten minutes of peace and quiet so please go on this supply run and try not to kill anyone_ time. So, uh, if you get any reports of shit going totally fuckin’ batshit down near the Felicity Wilds, you can chill, probably just us. But, hey, your notes have been taken into account, gonna _really_ try and avoid too much death this time around. Specifically, mine, but like. I’ll do my best to avoid just, you know, general death. Just for you, honeybun.

“Anyway, I’ll call you when all that shit wraps up. And you _better_ be done with your bounties for the day, because it has been an _unforgivably_ long time since I’ve gotten to see your stupid handsome face and we have _got_ to remedy that, my guy.

“...all right, I gotta bounce. Hope you get this message alright over there in ghost land. Be back soon.”

   
  
  


Taako has never been in love.

He’d thought he was, at various points in his life. Young, dumb, _stupid_ points in his life. But he hasn’t. He’s been in lust, and infatuation, and denial, and sometimes all three at once, and he’s mistaken one or more of the three to be _love_ on more than one occasion. But he’d been wrong. And for one reason or another, he’s never really managed to get _love_ right.

He doesn’t especially mind, though. It used to bother him, but he’s come to accept it more, now. Casual relationships are a lot more fun when you don’t go into them expecting to _fall deeply in love_ somewhere down the line, and for the most part, he’s content with the occasional fling or one-night stand or playful flirty banter. The stereotypical romantic roadmap of finding a _soulmate_ , falling in love, getting married, settling down, and staying stagnant and committed for the rest of one’s life… it just doesn’t appeal to him, frankly. If nothing else, Taako is a man that values his freedom and bores of routine quite easily. If falling in love means relinquishing all that, well. Guess he’ll count himself lucky not to have to worry about it.

It’s another thing that differs between him and Lup. She doesn’t exactly love _easily_ \- they’re both distant and distrustful by default, and tend towards fast and loose and noncommittal when it comes to flirting - but she certainly leans into it more than he does, caring about even perfect strangers in a way he struggles to understand. Her falling for Barry becomes, increasingly, an inevitability, and Taako finds he doesn’t mind that at all. (Just the opposite, really; some days he wants to mash their faces together himself so the _fucking nerds_ will stop dancing around their obvious attraction.) Love might not be for him, but that doesn’t mean it’s not for her, and the two goobers are so _happy_ together, and little is more important to Taako than his sister’s happiness.

He doesn’t understand the way she worries about people she barely knows, how quickly she accepts the Starblaster crew as her family (though he comes around to that eventually), how she is able and willing to simply _care_ so much. But he cares about her, and that’s more than enough.

Sure, once and a while he’ll feel a twinge of jealousy. Barry comes second only to Taako in Lup’s heart (and only _barely_ ), but even among the Starblaster family he’s reluctantly come to cherish, no one has ever come even _remotely_ close to Lup in Taako’s own heart. A part of him wants someone who _does_ , who makes him care that deeply, who cherishes him back the way Barry so clearly cherishes his sister. And, hey, he’s open to being surprised on that front; of finally finding someone who _does_ make love come as easily for him as it has for Lup and Barry.

But it hasn’t happened yet, and in the meantime, he’s content with his flirting and flings and freedom. He can be content with the deep, unbreaking friendships he’s somehow managed to build with the rest of the crew. And he can be content with Lup, because he knows for a fact no one will ever be able to surpass the love they have for each other.

_You are my heart. You know that, right?_ And he had told her, yes, he understood, because he truly thought he did. But he didn’t, not then, because it would still be years and years before he lost her. Before he truly knew what it was like to be without his heart.

   
  
  


As the last, frantic, final preparations begin for the standoff against The Hunger, Taako reaches for his stone of farspeech without thinking, remembering abruptly that it’s gone.

He’d whooped about going off the grid at the time, thrilled at the prospect. That was fucking stupid. He hadn’t even thought. Hadn’t remembered the stone was his only real line of contact with Kravitz.

His last glimpse of Kravitz was haunting him now. The sight of the reaper drowning in the stormy, inky-black seas of the Astral Plane. Knowing, now, without a doubt, that the storm was the work of The Hunger. They’d never seen the attack from anywhere but the Prime Material Plane; watching that was horrific enough, but the transformation of the Astral Plane made his stomach turn.

He hadn’t grabbed Kravitz. He knew he couldn’t, with Merle left alone to face down Edward and Lydia, with Magnus’ soul floating helplessly through the Ethereal Plane, with so many things still unexplained. But the knowledge that he’d seen him and been unable to do _anything…_

_Everybody else that I ever met, aside from the six of you, were dust. They were just talking dust, okay, so I started worrying a lot more about me, because what was the fuckin’ point?_

He had made a very, very critical mistake.

He had come to see Kravitz as more than dust.

_Be back soon._ Of all things, _of all things_ , he couldn’t believe those were the last words he said to him.

Something steels itself in Taako, something hard and powerful and unfamiliar, and he’s surprised to find himself filled with resolution. _Okay,_ he decides, leaning into it despite the terror of the unknown. _Okay, then, I guess this is just how I have to play it._

He would not allow those to be his last words. He would not let the promise be empty this time. He was not going to let The Hunger _win_.

Somehow, he would get Kravitz out.

   
  
  


Taako had never been in love.

He had never been in love, and frankly, at this stage, what was the _fucking_ point? Everyone was dust. Everyone was _dust_ , and he didn’t want to get tied down anyway. He could flirt, have flings, have _fun_ , but there was no sense in getting attached. There was no sense in _falling in love_ , even if he was the type of person who _could._

Flirting with Kravitz was fun. Kravitz was eldritch and unknown and powerful, and also very, very handsome, and it was fucking _hilarious_ watching him trip all over himself when Taako offered to tentacle his dick or winked at him through the gemstone mirror or offered him wine when he showed up to talk about a town that had died thousands of times. Behind the obvious power he held, and the general air of spookiness, and the dedication to his work, and the stupid fake accents, Kravitz was kind of a _fucking dork_. So Taako flirted with him, and he had the time of his life doing it, even if a part of him feared it was _maybe_ going to get him killed and thrown in hell-jail.

But Kravitz was also _very_ easy to talk to, as he discovered on their second meeting, where the reaper was there to discuss rather than _collect_. He was a good listener, even when Taako went off on all manner of tangents and made him make those cute confused faces. He carried something of a calmness about him, nudging gently towards topics rather than forcing them, and backing down quickly and apologetically whenever that nudge proved to be too much. And as he slowly opened up, grew comfortable in the conversation, Taako was surprised to find himself doing the same - _fuck_ , he’d almost told the man about _Sizzle it Up_ , something he hadn’t even expounded upon to the rest of his party in the months they’d been working together.

How ironic, that he felt safer than he had in ages while he was talking to the _grim fucking reaper._

It had been easy for things to shift, from thoughtless flirting and casual conversation to something more explicitly romantic. Well, maybe not _easy_ ; Taako had about a panic attack and a half putting himself out there like that, and Kravitz borderline ceased to function in his nervousness every time Taako so much as touched his hand. It was _terrifying_ , and in retrospect, Taako didn’t know _how_ either of them had summoned up the courage to just… go for it.

But they had. And, well. Fuck. It was nice.

It had been a long, _long_ time since Taako was in a _relationship_. And that’s what this was, now. Not a fling, not flirting, they had vaulted past that headlong into _relationship_ , something that was _not_ Taako’s M.O. in the least. They went on dates, actual _dates_ , and they held hands and _talked about their fucking feelings_ , what the _fuck_. Taako didn’t _do_ that, but with Kravitz, it seemed to come naturally, and it was fucking _scary_ and honestly, the only way he got through it was by refusing to consider the implications.

It would fall apart soon, some tiny, awful, terrified part of him insisted. They’d run out of things to talk about, or get bored, or he’d move too fast or too slow and screw things up, or Kravitz would realize what a fucked-up person Taako was and leave in disgust, or it would turn out he’d been faking the whole time in some over-complicated plan to collect Taako’s bounty and lock him up in the ghost house. It wouldn’t last. It would never last. Things never _lasted_ for Taako.

Weeks turned to months. The apocalypse happened. Months turned to more months. Kravitz was still there.

In the time after the apocalypse, Taako came to realize that he and Kravitz were fucked up in very similar ways, and maybe that’s why they found it so _easy_ to talk to each other. Taako had always been afraid to be well and truly alone, both before and after the loss of Lup; after being trapped and abandoned in the Astral Plane during The Hunger’s assault, Kravitz felt much the same, and the two of them stuck close to each other whenever possible, each comforted and calmed by the other’s presence. Both of them tended to obsess to the point of self-destruction over things they knew, all too well, they didn’t have to - Taako over food and cooking, still terrified he might poison someone despite now knowing he never had; Kravitz over just about every word that exited his mouth, seeing every conversation as a minefield where he’d inevitably say or do the wrong thing, despite being kind and charming by his very nature.

They’d both had unfortunate prior experiences with romance, they discovered, though in slightly different ways. Taako confessed to how he’d forced himself into it at first, so young and dumb and desperate that he threw himself into people’s arms thinking they must be _The One,_ how it had been a danger both to him and to Lup in their fragile lives on the road. How his encounters had always been fast and loose ever since, having his fun without forcing a deeper connection that he was never going to find, without putting himself at any real risk.

Kravitz spoke, too, soft and nervous, about the fuzzy memories from his mortal life. How he’d never considered romance of any kind until a boy surprised him with a kiss one day, only for said boy to avoid and evade him from then on, leaving him confused and heartbroken. How he’d always fallen too hard, too fast, even with encounters he’d intended to be casual. His voice shook as he mentioned the violinist, the man who had played so beautifully and cradled Kravitz’s face and kissed him and fucked him like he _meant_ something, whispering to him how much he wanted to hear his own music, how beautiful he was, how he loved him... only to spirit away in the dead of night with every bit of gold Kravitz had on his person, never to be seen again.

Taako had listened with uncharacteristic patience and thoughtfulness, silent the whole way through, not a single inappropriate joke to lighten the mood. Then, much to his own surprise, he told him about Sazed. How it had always been one-sided, in a way, and how Taako had taken advantage of that at first, having his fun in the hopes that Sazed would be satisfied with that. How Sazed had craved, _demanded_ more, even after Taako realized it was no longer casual to the man and tried his damnedest to pull away. How the desperation and possessiveness and _jealousy_ had eventually turned murderous, how Glamour Springs had paid the price, how - despite all the insistence that he loved him and would follow him to the ends of the earth - Sazed had jumped ship the moment things turned south.

Kravitz had listened, too, but he was always good at that, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise. But still, he had listened, and he hadn’t looked at Taako with pity or disgust or anything that the elf had feared he might. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, biting his lip nervously. “I… thank you. I hope I didn’t make you feel like you had to- to tell me all that if you didn’t want to.”

“I wanted to,” Taako replied quickly, and he was honestly surprised to find that it was the truth. He’d told people bits and pieces - just about everyone knew he used to have a cooking show, and he’d told Angus more about how tragically it went wrong - but he’d never exactly told the whole story to anyone, and it was... oddly cathartic to do so.

And he trusted Kravitz. Which, frankly, was scarier to admit than anything else he’d said.

The reaper smiled, small and soft and still nervous, but _real_ , so _real_. “Thank you,” he’d repeated, and Taako felt something stir in his chest. Kravitz shifted, hovering a hand just over Taako’s, glancing up at him questioningly. “Can I-?”

“Yes.” He’d intertwined their fingers before the reaper even had a chance to finish, and Kravitz’s smile widened, and the feeling Taako had felt stirring seemed to spread through every nerve in his body. He reached up to caress Kravitz’s cheek, leaning forward so their faces practically touched, breaths intermingling. “Can I…?”

“Yes,” Kravitz whispered, all warmth and affection. Taako needed no further encouragement, pressing their lips together and letting his eyes flutter closed, relishing in the relative cool of Kravitz’s body. The reaper had squeezed Taako’s hand tight in reply, his free hand moving to brush a strand of hair away from his face, coming to a rest cradling the back of his neck. When they finally pulled apart, they were simply _gazing_ at each other, and between them was the silent, unspoken knowledge that however bad their previous experiences with romance had been, _this_ was something entirely different.

Taako had never been in love. But he was finding it was increasingly, terrifyingly possible for him to fall in love with Kravitz.

   
  
  


You can’t miss what you never knew you had in the first place. But Taako _knows_ , now, and Lup’s absence seems to haunt him at every turn, aching in his chest from the moment he wakes up to the time he finally drifts back to sleep.

_You are my heart_ , she’d told him, and now he _understands_ , because it’s like his is gone, leaving an emptiness in him that seems to taint his every interaction. Sure, he’s always been a bad person to some extent, always a hint of cruelty to him, always pushing people away. But now, even with those he _knows_ he loves - his crew, his friends, his family - any affection he musters up feels cold and hollow. He can’t give them a space in his heart if there’s no heart for them to reside in. He can’t give his heart to anyone if he doesn’t have it to begin with.

It takes his natural tendency to keep his distance, his reluctance to trust, his difficulties with _love_ as people generally describe it, and rattles them around in the empty cavity that was once his heart, until _choosing_ not to care becomes _being unable to._

It manifests in all manner of ways. He no longer remembers off the top of his head how everyone takes their coffee. He makes snarky jokes that he thinks will be funny, only to realize too late he’s poured salt in a wound that he should have _known_ of, have _remembered_ , had once _cared about._ He lets the barbs grow around his heart when he’s upset and snaps at anyone unlucky enough to encounter him, hurting people who don’t deserve to be hurt. And he doesn’t _want_ to be this way, he wants to know when to pull himself back, wants to care for his loved ones the way he could under Lup’s influence, wants to _be able to care, dammit, because these people aren’t dust. Not them._

They try to step up in her place, his friends, his family. And they’ll never be able to come _close_ to replacing her, and they all know it, but they try their damnedest, and a part of him appreciates it. Magnus places a hand on his shoulder, grip tight in a warning, when he says something that cuts a little too deep. Angus, the little walking encyclopedia, hangs by Taako’s side when he cooks, and chirps out everyone’s drink preferences and food allergies with an attention to detail that would make Fantasy Starbucks swoon. Barry does his best to anticipate, as Lup always would, when Taako is about to do something _monumentally stupid_ and balance him out in turn (bold where he was cautious, patient where he was impulsive, optimistic where he was pragmatic).

Kravitz.

Taako doesn’t even know _how_ to articulate Kravitz’s place in all this, because it’s so subtle and yet so _much_ at the same time. Kravitz is simply… always there, the constant that Lup is no longer. Taako can always turn to him if he needs a friendly ear, or someone to vent to, or a decent distraction, or even a good long judgement-free cry. And, just as importantly, he can always turn to him if he wants someone to help him bake a cake at three in the morning (because why the fuck not), or help him pick a cute outfit to wear when he’s torn through half his wardrobe and found _nothing_ that’s quite right, or go pull a prank on those asshole kids that were harassing Angus the other day. Kravitz is _there,_ through the best and the worst of it all, without pushing too hard or too little or complaining about a thing. (And in fairness, Taako does his best to be there for Kravitz too, and has found it easier to do for him than anyone else. He has held the reaper through many a long cry, been talked into many a late-night walk to stargaze on top of a grassy hill, made a number of spontaneous strawberry shortcakes because _son of a bitch,_ Kravitz _loves_ that shit.)

In a different life, Taako might have given Kravitz his heart. But he has no heart to give, and he was never the type to do so regardless.

But fuck, if things had been different.

   
  
  


When Lup returns, it doesn’t feel quite _real_ at first. It’s like a dream, staring up at her on the hill, Umbra Staff in her hand, smiling down at him like she’d just been off on a walk rather than _straight-up deceased._

He doesn’t remember how the others had got her back. He knew it had taken a long time and a lot of preparation, and that the process had rattled her immensely, and that it had involved _just_ enough necromancy to make Kravitz very, _very_ uncomfortable. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t _matter_ because Lup is there, Lup is _there_ and she’s alive she’s _alive_ she’s _home._

He’s sure everyone has wondered, debated how he might react. If he would try to play it off casually, the way he so often does. If he would break down and show some real emotion for the first time in a good long while. If he would cry, if he would run to her, if he would freeze up, if he would believe it was a trick. Honestly, if you’d asked him, he probably wouldn’t have an answer himself.

He _definitely_ wouldn’t have put money on what he _actually_ does, which is charging up the hill and punching his sister full-force in the fucking face.

_“Shit!!”_ She shouts, lurching back - and he knows he didn’t actually hurt her, he _sucks_ at melee and she barely stumbles, and even that’s more the surprise than anything else. And in true Lup form, she recovers quickly and responds in kind, swinging sharply at him with the Umbra Staff clutched in her fist, a resounding _crack_ echoing out as he’s knocked to the ground like a doll.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he hears Magnus hiss as he falls, and if he wasn’t so busy lying in the dirt with blood gushing out of _some_ orifice or another, he would have seen Lucretia, Barry and Kravitz all exchanging frantic looks before darting towards the twins themselves. Hoping to mediate or separate them before they exchanged any more blows, certainly.

“Taako, what the _fuck_ was that??” He glances up, and Lup’s glaring daggers down at him, thumb wiping at the dark bruise already blooming on her cheek. At least he’d managed that much. Maybe he’d gotten better at melee than he’d thought.

He wipes a trail of blood from his upper lip, wincing at the pressure on his more-than-likely-broken nose, staggering onto his hands and knees so he can glare back up at her properly. “ _Back soon??_ That’s what you leave us with, asshole?!”

And she softens instantly, recognition blooming in her eyes, because she is not like Taako. She doesn’t lash out for the sake of lashing out when she’s hurt, and she certainly doesn’t childishly avoid and evade any evidence that she’s hurt someone else. She is Lup, and Lup cares about others.

The glare softens to a guilty look, the Umbra Staff now hanging limply at her side, and Taako finds his own posture relaxing in turn. “I meant for it to be true,” she murmurs, soft and raw and, above all, honest. “I did. I- so much shit went down, dude. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I didn’t mean…” A shaky sigh escapes her, eyes going just the slightest bit glassy, voice cracking just the tiniest bit. “...I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

The words wash over him, and he’s struck again by the realization that she’s _here, she’s really here_ , and he finally feels something inside him quietly, softly break. “Lulu.”

And she falls to her knees, scooping him into a hug with frantic desperation, and that’s it for him. He scrambles into her arms and clutches tight, and she’s here and warm and solid and _real_ , and he clings to her and he buries his face in her shoulder and he _sobs_ , he sobs and blubbers and wails like a fucking child, and she’s doing the same and stroking his hair and _she’s here, she’s here, she’s here._

He’s only very vaguely aware of Lucretia and Barry and Kravitz standing nearby, having paused when no further fighting broke out, keeping a respectful distance as the twins have their long-overdue reunion. “...I’m… I’m very happy about this, personally speaking, really,” he hears Kravitz whisper to the others. “But, I… you all know that I’m _definitely_ going to be getting some calls about this, right.”

“Hush,” Lucretia replies, sharp and yet full of warmth, and bless Kravitz’s heart, he does without a word of protest.

They’ll worry about their continued flagrant disregard for the laws of life and death later. For now, Lup is _here,_ and that’s the only thing he cares about.

   
  
  


If Taako had thought it strange to be without Lup, to be without a heart, then it’s a fuckin’ experience and a half to have it suddenly, unexpectedly _back._

The first time it really hits him, it’s when he sees Angus - he should have expected that, in retrospect, that it would be Angus to make him _feel_ something - sitting on Lup’s lap, the two of them poring over an old spellbook Barry had found. Lup had taken an _immediate_ shine to the boy, fussing and cooing over him like he was her own, scoffing when he tried out one of his usual polite “ma’am”s and insisting he call her “Auntie Lup” instead. (Angus had stumbled and sputtered over the idea at first, but in the end, he seemed to get a kick over the idea of having an “auntie”. And given how important their own aunt had been to them, Taako was certain Lup had been thrilled to step into those shoes herself.) But today, Taako walks out and sees them reading through the spellbook, and Angus catches a glimpse of him and absolutely _lights up_ , waving excitedly to his mentor.

And Taako feels the world _shift_.

The world shifts, and Taako’s stomach lurches ever-so-slightly, and he worries for a second that the sheer force of this feeling is going to send him toppling right over. And suddenly the cold emptiness in his chest that he’s grown so accustomed to is simply _gone,_ replaced by the pleasant ache of fullness one gets after a much-needed meal.

His heart, back where it belongs after so many years without it.

Holy _shit._

And, you know, even if he’d never truly admitted to it, a part of him realized long ago that Angus had wormed his way into his exclusive little circle of _not-dust_. He trusted the boy implicitly (had told him as such in no uncertain terms, thanks to a Zone of Truth-induced moment of weakness), and maybe cared a _little_ more about his safety than he did most other people’s, and sure, every once and a while, the kid really did make him proud. But _fuck_ , right now he felt all that and more with so much newfound intensity, he might as well have felt _jack shit_ before.

He spares a quick glimpse around, checking for witnesses. The only other person there is Lup, and he’s, like, _ninety_ percent sure she’s not going to rat him out and ruin his rep; so he crosses the remaining distance in three long strides and lifts Angus from his sister’s lap, scooping him into a tight hug and smooching his cheeks till the boy has devolved entirely into delighted laughter.

He is absolutely, definitely not going to fess up to it, but _fuck_ , turns out he really does super care about this kid.

And similar moments start to happen with more and more regularity, casual interactions making him abruptly, intensely aware of his reforming heart. Magnus makes some sort of dumbass joke, and Taako finds himself doubling over with laughter that shakes his whole fucking body, because _fuck_ Magnus is so simple and kind and _genuine_ and how fuckin’ _lucky_ is he to know this big lug. Merle gives him some of his usual shitty, backhanded advice, and he’s suddenly struck by the knowledge that Merle was, more or less, the only adult in his life who’d ever stuck around and cared enough to try and _advise_ him at all. He and Barry chat idly about nothing at all and it just kind of hits him that Barry, more than anyone else, is his _family_ , and fuckin’ _shit_ did he luck out that Lup fell for someone as amicable and intelligent and chill as Barry is. He and Lup return, bit by bit, to their usual comfortable existence as the coolest twins on the planet, and sometimes when he’s around her, it hits him yet again that she’s _back, she’s home, and he loves her_ and he kind of reels about that all over again.

He’s with Lucretia one night, keeping up empty but pleasant conversation as they do dishes or organize spell components or some such shit; and something he says makes her laugh, unguarded and exuberant the way he remembered so well from their hundred-year journey. And it occurs to him then, out of the blue, what good _friends_ they had been in all that time. That it was entirely possible for them to be that way again, if he wanted to be. That, maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be.

She catches his vaguely-distant gaze and blinks, expression falling, drawing back into herself. “I- sorry, I don’t. Um. Did I say something wrong-?”

“No, Luce, you didn’t,” he assures her with a gentleness that surprises him most of all. Before she has a chance to inquire further, he finds himself drawing her into a gentle hug, resting his temple on the crown of her head. (He’d forgotten how small she was; in her time as _Madam Director_ she’d always seemed ever-so-slightly larger than life, always a little bit out of reach.) He feels her stiffen under his hold for a moment, and then she relaxes, bit by bit, arms gradually moving to return his embrace.

He hears her sniffle once, muffled and shaky, into his shoulder. For what is perhaps the first time in his life, he doesn’t pull away.

   
  
  


When it happens with Kravitz, which he supposes was always going to happen at one point or another, it’s nothing like what he expects.

It’s a relatively average night for them - Kravitz had tugged him outside after the sun disappeared past the horizon, insisting that the night was so clear that it would practically be a crime not to go stargazing, and _you’ve already got enough crimes on your rap sheet without this one, don’t you Taako._ And so they’re sitting in the best part of the clearing they could find, a raggedy old picnic blanket underneath them, and Kravitz was right, the night sky is clear as _hell_ and he’s not sure he’s seen this many stars in the sky since he was on the Starblaster itself. They had simply relaxed into the calm of the evening at first, Kravitz occasionally pointing out a constellation or two he recognized, and that had given Taako the jumping-off point to one of his favorite time-tested bits: making up absolutely dumbshit stupid fake constellations.

He’s just wrapping up a good one, with a long and misleadingly serious backstory, finally landing on the punchline of the name _Bonerus Disappointus._ And apparently Kravitz hadn’t seen that one coming, because he practically topples right over and breaks down in unrestrained laughter, guffawing and wheezing and clutching his sides with the force of it.

And just like that, it’s like a part of Taako that had been slightly crooked, jammed just a little bit, quietly clicks into place; and he thinks to himself, _oh. Oh, I love him._

And it’s… it makes him reel a little bit, honestly. The sheer, simple, casual nature of that realization. Because the way everyone tended to describe it, he’d always assumed that, if he ever fell in love (and that was a _big_ “if”, mind you), it would be something… monumental. World-shattering. That he’d be struck through the heart like a train through some asshole’s garden, that the feeling would tear through him and rip him apart and rearrange him as someone _in love,_ someone who would want nothing but to be with this person.

But it’s not. It’s quiet, and simple, and when it happens, he finds he’s still the same Taako he’s always been. Still a little bit of an asshole, a little slow to trust, a little cowardly, a little fucked up in a lot of ways. He’s still Taako. He’s just… that Taako, but now, he’s very, _very_ much in love with Kravitz.

Actually, he thinks, he’s maybe definitely been in love with Kravitz for a long-ass time now. But now, now the words accompany the feeling with an ease that he’d thought impossible.

Fuck. He loves him, he loves him, he _loves_ him.

And he must have been gaping in silence longer, and more obviously, than he’d thought, because suddenly he’s looking into Kravitz’s eyes and the reaper looks just a touch concerned. “Taako, are you… are you alright? You’re, uh, you’re not saying much, which, um. If you don’t mind me saying? Not especially in character for you to _not_ be talking.”

Taako is surprised to find that he wants, with every last fucking fiber of his being, to tell him that he loves him right then and there. Equally surprising, what comes out of his mouth instead is, “You wanna go fishing sometime?”

Kravitz blinks, and the concerned stare shifts into a dumbfounded one.

“...hey. Listen. You don’t gotta look at me like I’ve lost my fuckin’ mind, you can just tell me if you’re not into it-”

“No, no, it’s not- no. I just… you… fish…?”

Taako snorts with amusement, tossing his braid over his shoulder with a practiced ease. “Yeah, dude, I fish! Fuck, not like you _asked_ before.”

“Oh, of course, no, I just…” Kravitz pauses, turning away to let out a huff of incredulous laughter, still looking lost in the cutest possible way. “I’m sorry, I- I’m just really struggling to wrap my head around the idea of you _fishing._ Like, for _fun._ ”

Now Taako can’t help but cackle, shoving Kravitz’s shoulder (what he hopes come off as) good-naturedly. “What, because I’m _pretty?_ Fuck you, man, I fish and I’m _kickass_ at it just like I am at everything, and I look fuckin’ hot doin’ it.”

And _fuck,_ there’s that unrestrained laugh from Kravitz again, and Taako feels his heart skip a beat and _I love you_ flash through his head as easy as breathing. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you are. I believe it. Sure, okay, let’s go fishing. When were you hoping to go?”

_Oh,_ yeah, he’d kind of dropped this whole idea so impulsively that he hadn’t considered actually having to _plan_ something. His face scrunches up in consideration, and he flops backwards onto the picnic blanket, sprawled out haphazardly. Kravitz waits with his usual borderline-inhuman patience, running a finger lightly up and down Taako’s forearm and that is _maybe_ the best feeling in the fuckin’ _world_ right now, _shit._

“...well, shit, dude, we can go tomorrow morning if you’re up for it,” he finally proposes, ears twitching ever-so-slightly back ( _fuck,_ he hates the way those things give away his nerves so easily). “Pretty sure there’s a big-ass lake not far from here. There’s probably some solid fishin’ to be done there.”

Kravitz turns his gaze skyward and hums in thought, and Taako takes the opportunity to shift so his head rests against the reaper’s hip. “...you know what, that does sound lovely,” he finally answers, a hint of a grin on his full lips. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

_“Rad,”_ Taako beams, and shoves himself back up off the blanket so he can hoist himself into Kravitz’s lap instead, draping his arms over his shoulders and pressing a quick, sloppy kiss to his jaw. “Fair, uh, fair warning though. If we’re gonna do this right, we’re gonna have to get up and go, like, in the _actual_ early fuckin’ morning for a change.”

“Oh, well, nevermind, then,” Kravitz retorts teasingly, features crinkling in a mischievous grin. Taako pulls back enough to blow a raspberry at him, and _oh_ there’s that perfect laugh again, and the reaper wraps his arms around him to draw him back in, nuzzling at his cheek. “All _right_ , all right, I _guess_ I can get up early _one_ day. Just for you.”

“Hell yeah you can. Fuck, if _I_ can get up, my guy, your undead ass ought to have no fuckin’ problem.” Another laugh, and then Kravitz draws him into a proper kiss, warm and lazy and without a care in the world.

Fuck. _Fuck_. It is truly, incredibly, _hilariously_ easy for him to be in love with this man.

   
  
  


_I love him, Taako, with_ all _of my heart, but you… you_ are _my heart. You know that, right?_

And he’d told her yes, and at the time, he’d really thought he understood. He didn’t then, it turns out, but he _definitely_ did now.

Because he had lost her, had lost his heart, and it had been the most painful thing in the world. And then he had gotten it all back, and it had simultaneously been overwhelming and wonderful in every respect.

And now. Now, with his whole heart finally settled back in his chest where it belonged, he was finding he loved Kravitz with every last fiber.

   
  
  


Getting Kravitz up at dawn had been a small miracle. For someone who _technically_ didn’t need anything resembling sleep, the reaper was something of a glutton for it, and it had taken Taako all manner of poking and prodding and squawking (and maybe a few lingering kisses) to finally get him moving.

By the time Kravitz finally meets him at the start of the dirt path, Taako has not only gathered all the gear they’ll need for their fishing date, but has dolled himself up in what he thinks is a pretty dope fishing outfit. It’s functional, first and foremost - rubber-soled boots and overalls and his hair meticulously tied up - but it’s also very… _on-brand_ for him, the overalls hot pink and the shirt underneath reading _FISHES BE CRAZY_ in big, glittery text. Kravitz, by comparison, is wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and shorts that are just a _tad_ too long to be sexy, and gives the elf an apologetic look when he gives his attire a once-over and a cocked eyebrow.

“Sorry, I- you know I’m terrible with my outfits,” he admits, sheepish, wringing his hands together and darting his gaze to the ground. “And, um- well- I mean, look, a _lot_ of my life is fuzzy and there’s almost certainly some details I’ve forgotten entirely at this point, but, um… well. I-I’m not entirely certain I’ve ever been fishing before.”

And _oh_ , that’s kind of cute, Kravitz getting himself so nervous about this. Taako closes the distance between them and pats his cheek affectionately, giving him a quick peck on the lips and a (hopefully) reassuring grin. “All good, my guy. You’re lucky you’ve got the master here to show you the ropes.” The reaper chuckles once, the sound nervous but his posture gradually relaxing, and the two set off hand-in-hand for the lake.

It takes them maybe an hour or so to reach it, filling the distance with idle conversation and stolen glances and maybe a _few_ stops along the way to smooch the fuck out of each other. There’s an ancient-looking rowboat sitting at the edge of the shore, wood rough and paint chipping off in large patches, and Taako gladly helps himself to it despite Kravitz’s judgemental look. ( _“It’s not like we’re stealin’ it for_ good, _homie, just takin’ it out there for the day. Besides, just the fact that_ Taako from TV _once sat in this shit boat is gonna, like,_ triple _its value. I’m doin’ this dude a favor, really.”_ ) They get the thing into the water with a surprising lack of difficulty, and with the help of a couple spell slots (like _hell_ Taako’s gonna waste his energy actually rowing this thing) they maneuver the rowboat into the middle of the lake.

It’s _incredibly_ clear Kravitz has never fished before, but he sits with rapt attention while Taako runs him through how to bait and cast, and the sheer unwavering focus with which he watches his line is. Well. Fuckin’ adorable, honestly. “You look like Angus when I’m tryin’ to teach him a new spell,” the elf guffaws, and Kravitz looks up from the water just long enough to restrain a grin (barely) and blow a raspberry at his boyfriend, which sends Taako into such a fit of laughter that he almost topples over into the lake.

They stay on the water for hours, sometimes chatting, sometimes trading jokes, mostly just fishing together in comfortable silence. Admittedly, they’re not having a lot of success on the actual _fishing_ front - Kravitz suspects that the presence of _actual, literal Death_ in their boat may be encouraging the fish to steer clear of them. Not that Taako cares, honestly. He didn’t exactly come to _fish_ ; he can do that on his own anytime. Today was a day to spend with Kravitz, to share another little part of himself with the man he loves.

(Because he does, he loves him, and it’s a little bit terrifying how Taako thinks that to himself so easily now.)

Kravitz is halfway through apologizing (for the third time that day) about scaring away the fish when Taako abruptly blurts out, “I love you.”

There’s a tiny choking sound as a word dies halfway out of Kravitz’s mouth, and the reaper simply freezes and _gapes_ , eyes wide and jaw slack.

And, oh, _oh_ , he’s said it now, the words are _out there_ and just like that, a million other thoughts bubble up and start pouring out of him before he can stop them. “I love you. Kravitz, I- _fuck_ , I know this is- I know I don’t _do_ this shit and I don’t talk things out and I spring weird shit onto you like this and I’m- I’m just kind of generally an asshole most of the time, let’s be real- and like… I’m kind of super fucked up and you know that and you’ve- you’ve _stuck around_ and I… shit. Shit, _fuck,_ I-- you’ve stuck around _so long_ and I don’t know how you do it, but it means so _much_ to me and I know it’s taken me too damn _fuckin’_ long to do this, I should have done this a long time ago, you deserved that much but I just…”

A nervous burst of laughter interrupts his own current of speech, and he runs a hand back through the stray hairs coming loose along his hairline. “ _Shit,_ dude! This is fuckin’ scary for me, you know? I don’t- I don’t get _close_ to people, you know that, it fuckin’- it fuckin’ _terrifies_ me and it’s dangerous and it’s scary and I don’t _do_ it but I did it with you and it was so _easy,_ and it was so easy and I kept doing it and I couldn’t figure out why and now I- now I know. I love you, _I love you,_ and I didn’t think I was ever gonna- you know. I didn’t think I was ever gonna _love_ anyone, and I was _fine_ with that, and now I’m in love with you and it’s so much _easier_ than I ever expected it would be, and I know this is probably a fuckin’ lot for you and I never meant it to be because I just really want to make you happy- _ha!_ Can you- can you believe that, believe _I’m_ saying I want to make someone else happy?? Like, without lying or looking for the personal gain or anything?? Never fuckin’ saw that comin’. But- but it’s true and I mean it, I really do, and you don’t- you don’t have to say anything, I know this probably comes off _super_ skeevy, me draggin’ you out to the middle of a fucking lake to ambush you with- with _feelings_ or whatever, but I really didn’t mean to do it like this and you don’t gotta- don’t feel pressured or anything, like--”

“I love you too,” Kravitz whispers, and it’s so quiet and gentle that Taako almost thinks he imagined it, but it stops him dead in his runaway-freakout tracks nonetheless. Kravitz is just… gazing at him in _awe_ , he thinks, looking at the elf like he’s the only thing in the world worth looking at. He takes a shuddering breath, and a smile spreads gradually across his face, disbelieving and warm and raw and _happy, so happy,_ so much so it seems to strike Taako clear through the heart. “I love you, Taako,” he repeats, and there’s tears in his eyes, and he’s _beaming,_ and there is so much obvious affection in his gaze that it looks like he might burst.

In retrospect, Taako regrets having this particular conversation where they did. Because in that moment, he’s so overwhelmed with joy and relief and _love, so much love_ that he completely forgets they’re in the middle of a _fucking_ lake, and he throws himself at Kravitz with such force that the boat lurches sharply to one side and capsizes them straight into the water.

Luckily, the man he loves has a good sense of humor, and is laughing his ass off the second they surface.

   
  
  


Taako is beyond caring about the gear that’s been dumped in the lake, and even more so about the boat that isn’t even his, floating dejectedly upside-down in the gentle current. Kravitz needles him into recovering it all, though, so the sun is high overhead by the time they finally finish dragging the rowboat back to shore, trading playful banter and bursting into giggles all the while. Well, the afternoon sun is all the better for helping them dry off, Taako supposes - prestidigitation can only do so much when you’re completely fuckin’ soaked.

They end up lounging in a sunbeam just a few feet away from shore, more than happy to forgo fishing for a bit, soaking up the sun and each other’s presence in equal measure. Taako had maneuvered himself into the reaper’s lap almost as soon as he’d sat down, bare feet grazing his shins, rubber-soled boots long since discarded to dry with the rest of their gear. Kravitz had been willing (maybe even a bit eager?) to put up with the elf’s clinginess, slinging his arms over his shoulders and lazily working his long hair back into a neat, simple braid. And for once, Taako feels no need to fill the silence with his usual babbling; the quiet between them feels comforting, for once, rather than haunting or suffocating. The occasional contented hum from Kravitz, or smack of Taako’s lips on the reaper’s collarbone, or distant ripple of the water against the shore… it’s more than enough for now.

“...hey.” It’s Kravitz who finally breaks the silence, surprisingly, and Taako shifts in his arms just enough to blink up at him. “I love you.”

Taako snorts, and pushes himself upwards to kiss him, the contrast between cool and warm lips positively _electrifying_. “Yeah, I love you too, ya dork. We just had a whole thing happen with that, remember?”

Kravitz chuckles once, and then averts his eyes shyly; even through his dark skin, Taako can tell he’s blushing something fierce. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just- um. I mean…”

“Spit it out, loverboy. I just did a whole confession and a half out there, it’s _your_ turn now.”

The reaper hesitates another long moment, and it kinda makes Taako’s stomach drop a bit - shit, _shit_ , he said something wrong again, went too mean, he’d thought he was getting so much _better_ at that - but then he glances back at the elf out of the corner of his eye, a tiny, nervous grin on his face. “I just. I’ve been… I’ve been wanting to say that a long time,” Kravitz finally admits, voice as small as he’s ever heard it. “A _long_ time. And I… I knew how you… how you felt about that kind of stuff. I didn’t want to scare you off.” A sharp inhale, then, “I wanted to wait until I was sure you were ready.”

All Taako can do is blink and gape for a hot second, feeling his heart swell in his chest to a degree he never imagined possible. “Holy _shit_ ,” he finally breathes, and then he’s got his lips pressed fervently to Kravitz’s, kissing him with a passion that seems to light his veins in fire. (Kravitz, he can’t help but note, is taken aback for all of a fraction of a second, before matching that passion and then some.) When they finally pull apart for air, Taako gasps against his mouth, “holy _shit_ , dude, I love you, you’re the best boyfriend in the entire _world_ and I _fucking_ love you.”

Kravitz lets out a shuddering laugh, pressing their foreheads together, and _boy howdy_ he’s got that smile again, the beautiful and ecstatic one that seems to stretch so wide it hurts. “I love you, too.”

Taako beams right back, and cradles his head between his hands; and they kiss again and again and _again_ ; and he loves him, loves him, _loves_ him; and he can’t believe how stupidly, impossibly lucky he is that, when he finally fell in love, it was with Kravitz. Can’t believe it took so _fucking_ long for him to realize it.

But, he supposes, you never know what you were missing until you have it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> big shoutout to @zestycheck for inadvertantly inspiring me to write up the fishing date. Also, please check out zestycheck's good good taakitz fics y'all holy heck 
> 
> as always I'm @anonymouspuzzler on tumblr if you ever want to chat!! thanks so much for reading!


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